


The Probable In The Impossible

by DarkAlpha67



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Architect Derek Hale, FBI Agent Stiles Stilinski, Good and caring Stiles, M/M, Married Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Mention of Malia Tate/Scott McCall, Mention of Talia Hale - Freeform, Mention of betrayl and heartbreak, Mention of sex, Mentioned Jennifer Blake, Mentioned Kate Argent, Mentioned Paige, Past Relationships, Reminiscing, Scences of Season 3, Slight depiction of violence, Slightly Dark and Angst, The parallel viewing of past relationships with a current one, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-12-30 04:14:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12100488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkAlpha67/pseuds/DarkAlpha67
Summary: Derek lost faith in love long ago. Parts of his heart were taken away by the women who betrayed him and those who left without a choice.He thought he was done with it until Stiles came stumbling into his life and with the past as a constant reminder to never trust anyone, Derek begins to see that sometimes...  just because love seemed impossible in one relationship, don't mean it isn't possible in the right relationship.*A viewing of derek's past relationships and how they differ with the one he has with Stiles.





	The Probable In The Impossible

**Author's Note:**

> Right so... this story as majorly inspired by Impossible by Shantelle because we all know that song is perfect for him.
> 
> I am sure I am not the only one who has written something like this but yeah... I just needed to write my own view of all those parallel traits between Stiles and Derek's past girlfriends.

Tell them all I know

Shout it from the roof tops

Write it on the skyline

All we had is gone now

Tell them I was happy

And my heart is broken

All my scars are open

Tell them what I hoped

Would be impossible.

 

 

 

_At a young age Derek Hale knew the definition of love._

_He saw it every day._

_As he sat by the kitchen counter, watching his dad flip pancakes around much to the amusement of his mom who was busy making coffee with a sweet smile on her face, Derek knew what love was._

_Because it was clear… his mom and dad loved each other._

_He made a promise that day that one day, he’s gonna find someone that looked at him like mom looked at dad and he was going to treat that girl like his dad treated his mom._

_He told his mom just that later that night as she tucked him in._

_“Oh, sweetheart, it is my greatest wish that you find someone that makes you so happy. But remember,” she said, cupping his chin gently. “Some people aren’t always gonna take care of your heart.”_

_“What you mean?” Derek had asked confused._

_How could someone look after his heart… it was in his body, silly._

_Mommy smiled at him. “One day you will learn. But until then, I want you to remember, only love those who deserves to be loved by you.”_

_Derek still didn’t understand what she was talking about but he was starting to get sleepy so instead of asking more questions, he just nodded._

_“M’kay, mommy.”_

 

 

                                          ////////////

 

He was cold and distant.

Derek knew this.

He knew he was a difficult person to love.

And he had reasons as to why he found it almost impossible to love.

Reasons brought about by an indescribable fear within him.

Reasons that started with Paige and that grew and grew, until they were so deep in his psyche, Derek found it hard to look at someone without wondering what their ulterior motives were.

He knew he had taken a risk with Stiles. A _big_ risk.

After admitting to himself that what he felt for Stiles was nothing close to friendship, he tried to give into that feeling, to let his feelings for Stiles overpower the fear that had consumed him all those years ago.

He thought it was impossible.

But… like all things that made Stiles ‘ _Stiles_ ’, the ever determined human made it his mission to prove Derek wrong.

 

\--

 

1) 

 

It started with the way he looked at Derek.

They had been dating for more than two weeks by then and whenever he was over at Derek’s loft, Derek would find Stiles staring at him sometimes.

He would just sit there, looking at Derek with an almost smug smirk as if Derek had just proven him right.

“What?” Derek had asked one day.

They were in his loft in front of the TV (Which Stiles insisted on) watching Iron Man.

Derek could feel Stiles’ eyes on him every now and then but he ignored it. He kept his eyes in front of him, not looking down at Stiles who was using his lap as a pillow.

“Nothing.” He said, but he didn’t take his eyes off Derek.

The werewolf sighed and reached over to grab the remote to pause the movie. “You were the one who wanted to watch this.”

“Yes, and then I found something better to watch.”

Derek looked down. Green met brown and Derek saw the glimmer of… something in Stiles’ eyes.

He didn’t want to acknowledge it so he shifted a bit to get Stiles to break eye contact which the human did, but only for a second before they returned to Derek, that emotion twirling in his whiskey orbs.

“Stiles…”

“Derek.”

Thin pink lips tug up into a smirk.

He felt uneasy.

He hated it when people looked at him for too long. He hid it well, behind aggression and an angry expression but Stiles had been the first person in a long time to look at him, to stare directly into his eyes even when Derek was glaring at him.

“You know you have really beautiful eyes.”

His entire body went ridged. His spine shot up, his muscle tensing as if preparing his body to flee but Derek remained where he was.

“Like I noticed it before but now that I’m this close, I actually realized they aren’t green at all. They’re like grayish green…” Stiles trailed off, as if he himself was getting lost Derek’s eyes.

Derek wanted to look away. To tell Stiles to focus on the movie rather than on him because whenever someone focused on Derek it wasn’t usually for a good reason.

He remember the last person who ‘focused’ on him.

She had been kind and pure.

She had looked at him, saw his bullshit and refused to see past it, until he chose to reveal who he truly was. Rather than looking for the good in him, like so many other girls at school did, she had accepted the bad first before she had the good.

“ _Honestly, I think at first you liked me because I didn’t like you_.”

And who else had hated him?

Derek looked down at Stiles whose eyes had still not left his face.

Memories flashed through his mind. Peter telling him that he needed to change her that she would never accept him for who he truly was and they could never be together if she remained human.

He had been conflicted. With Peter’s manipulatively convincing arguments and his mother’s motto that ‘instinct was a wolf’s greatest sense’, Derek didn’t know who to trust.

He had loved Paige and he knew, deep in his 15 year old heart, that she was the one.

She had to be.

How else could he explain the overwhelming joy he felt whenever she simply looked over and smiled at him?

_“I hate you.”_

_“You love me._ ”

Letting her get bitten, reacting too late to stop that Alpha from sinking his teeth into her skin… Derek hated himself in that moment and for the torturous years to come.

As he held her while she withered in his arms, clutching onto him, trying to sooth him when he was the one that should be soothing her.

 _“I knew… right after I told you my name… I think I knew_.”

And she still loved him.

Now, whenever he looked into the mirror, saw the green eyes that stared back at him and knowing the true colors his eyes should be…

Someone said that the eyes were the window to the soul and his eyes expressed just how cold his soul really was.

“Derek?” Stiles called his name, pulling him back to the now.

 _“You know you have really beautiful eyes_.” Stiles’ voice mocked him.

“Focus on the movie, Stiles.” Derek said to him, hardening his voice. He didn’t mean to come off so gruff but like always, in the process of trying to protect himself, he ended up being a dick to the other person.

“Okay.” Stiles said casually with a small shrug before he dropped his head to the side, pressing his cheek against Derek’s thigh and returned to watching the movie.

Something brushed over his hand and Derek’s eyes snapped down when he felt something trailing down the curvature of his palm.

The smell of blood reached his nose.

A pale veiny hand with long fingers was slowly slipping between his clenched fist. On reflex, Derek’s hand relaxed and Stiles’ fingers dipped through.

He felt his skin mending and when he spread his fingers out, he saw the tips of his nails covered in blood.

Neither said anything. Stiles didn’t remove his eyes off the TV screen and Derek curled his fingers back in, pressing down on Stiles’, holding onto him.

Stiles saw him.

He had no troubles calling Derek out on his crap, in fact Derek would go so far as to say that he enjoyed it.

But most importantly, Stiles saw _within_ in. He had looked at Derek, stared at the icy blue eyes that started back at him and he accepted it.

 

                                             ////////////

 

2)

 

Next was the way he touched Derek.

Derek was not blind, he saw the way Stiles eyed him hungrily whenever he was shirtless or completely naked.

They could be exhausted to the bone, their bodies covered in sweat, sated for the time being but whenever Derek would stand up to get them a glass of water or something to eat (Because Stiles always got either hungry or thirst after sex), he could smell the arousal coming off Stiles, and he could feel his eyes on him, running over every inch of his skin.

They had agreed to wait until Stiles was of legal age before they took things further. Stiles had been upset at first about that arrangement, going so far as to say that age didn’t change how he felt and that he could guarantee that in two months he would still want to take the next step, so how the hell was his age relevant and in the midst of their argument Stiles had stopped abruptly, stared at Derek for a beat before he sighed and nodded.

He walked over, have him a small peck before heading over to the box of pizza while Derek’s eyes followed after him as it slowly dawned on him.

 _He knew_ …

It took a while for Derek to get use to human touch, heck it took a while to get use to touch generally.

Laura had attempted to talk to him about it but Derek had remained tight lipped as to why whenever someone so much as brushed past him in the busy streets of New York City, Derek would recoil.

After he had worked through his struggles with the help of Laura, Derek had found a new form of touch, touch that meant nothing and didn’t scare him because he knew exactly to where that touch would lead to.

Sex.

But then again, it had been sex that led to his hatred for human contact.

Sex and her…

Stiles didn’t mention it but Derek could always sense when Stiles had to lessen his level of physical contact with him during the first few stages of their relationship.

He had both hated and appreciated it.

“Hey,” Stiles greeted him as he walked through the loft door, dropping his school bag on the couch, smelling of exhaustion.

Derek, who was mid-way from doing a push up stopped and looked up and over to see Stiles smirking at him, his eyes alight with humor, joy and attraction.

“Oh, don’t stop on my account. Lydia says the bonus of having a hot boyfriend is when you are allowed to admire his physique.”

Derek huffed, his body tensing up ever so slightly at the wondering eyes. “Lydia would know.” He grunted, lowing himself down once more.

“Hey, watch it.” Stiles reprimanded him as he made his way to the small fridge by Derek’s bed where he kept his water. “No matter her sexual experience, she is still my goddess.”

Derek rolls his eyes, doing ten more push ups before jumping up. His body was covered in sweat and Derek, eager to get rid of some of it, walked over to his bed where his small towel laid. As he wiped himself down, he noted Stiles slowly making his way over to him.

“What? No ‘hello, Stiles, I missed you’ kiss?” He asked with a smirk.

“I stink.” Derek commented.

“So?”

He was already an inch away from Derek, the smirk turning into a grin as he stared at Derek, his eyes lifted just a bit due to the small difference in height between them.

“Hello, Stiles. I missed you.” Derek said robotically, leaning down to peck Stiles’ cheek.

As he pulled back with a grin of his own, he was met with a shocked Stiles, whose lips were parted, his eyes widen in pure and over-exaggerated outrage.

With a huff of laughter, Derek stepped back, turning to head up the stairs to his shower.

“That ain’t funny, Derek!” Stiles shouted behind him. “Guy doesn’t see his boyfriend for a whole of two goddamn days he expects more than a peck on the cheek.”

Derek laughed but he could feel his throat tightening just a bit. He hated that he still felt like this around people. He hated that she still had some form of control over his feelings, even though she was long out of his life.

And most of all, he despised the fact that she was affecting his relationship with Stiles.

A touch was a touch and with Stiles, his touches never held hidden meaning.

A grasp of his leather jacket was to hold him back.

A slap on the cheek was to bring him back to the present.

A hand on the shoulder was for strength and comfort.

Those were the touches Derek had experienced with Stiles when they were… allies.

Now…

A touch was always a touch.

A grasp on his leather jacket was to hold onto him.

A slap on the cheek was playful and almost always followed by a sarcastic quip.

A hand on the shoulder was a guiding touch, a hold that gentle drew him closer to soft sweet kisses.

The shower water felt wonderful against his skin. Derek imagined the water as it thundered down onto him, tiny pellets of boiling hot liquid, burning away her influenced, he imagine that as the water tumbled down his body, it gathered up her memory and as it swirled down the drain, it took her name and her touch away from him forever…

But he knew, no matter what, it would never happen.

So he went back down to Stiles, continued on as if nothing was wrong. Drowned in the soft strokes of Stiles’ fingers against his neck and the gentle scraping of his short nails against his sculpt, they watched a movie together.

“So… are we gonna talk about the new big bad?” Stiles asked him softly, his lips inches from Derek’s ear.

A shiver ran down him spine and Derek felt himself rumble in content with a small part of him mindful of Stiles’ rhythmic scratching.

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Derek grumbled. “It’s just an Omega. Scott said he’d try to talk and reason with it and if push comes to shove, he will… probably do exactly that until the Omega is out of Beacon Hills.”

“Hmm.” Stiles sounded.

Derek said nothing after that too. They both agreed and disagreed when it came to Scott McCall, something Derek suspected would never change but one thing they both agreed on was to respect the other’s opinion and decision and to always, _always_ , be there for the other.

Both Derek and Stiles were laid back, sprawled out on the couch. With Stiles leaned back against the arm, a pillow cushioning his back and Derek burrowed in the V of his legs. It was an awkward position but neither felt uncomfortable. The werewolf had his head leaned back against Stiles’ chest, tilted to the side so it rested more on his shoulder.

As the movie continued to play, Derek felt Stiles’ cold finger tips dip under his shirt. He felt his muscles tense as those long thin fingers vanished beneath the fabric of his Henley. They brushed against the planes of his stomach, his pinkie flirting the waist line of his jeans.

The touch would have been considered extremely suggestive if it weren’t for the calming beats of Stiles’ heart that indicated he was doing all of this subconsciously.

“Hah! Please!” He said as Deadpool butt headed the scary woman whose name he couldn’t remember. “He’ll be saying your name,” he muttered.

The hand beneath his shirt settled, palm pressed against his stomach.

Derek’s body was tensing up, his mind zoning in on the pinkie finger against the lining of his jeans but the hand remained it still, never moving, never dipping lower.

He flashed back to all of Stiles’ touches… they never held a hidden meaning.

A touch was a touch… and it made him fucking angry that after all this time he still questioned it because of her.

Kate broke him. He knew that and he was working on it but… with all the painful memories and the scaring lessons, she taught him one thing.

Everyone had something to hide and everyone had ulterior motives and it was stupid for him to think that what he saw was the truth.

He had carried that lesson around with him until a loud mouth kid changed his mind with his in-your- face remarks, with his tell-it-like-it-is approach on a difficult subject and most of all, with the unflinching loyalty he displayed daily to a kid he considered a brother and to a man whom he had no reason to trust.

_Could you just trust me this once?_

_You don’t trust me and I don’t trust you._

_I’m the only one keeping you alive._

What he saw was he got with Stiles.

A touch from Stiles had never hurt him and as his stomach relaxed under that burning palm, he felt Stiles’ thumb stroke his skin and his heart blip beneath Derek’s ear. The werewolf sunk into the warm body beneath his, closing his eyes and letting the world outside of Stiles vanish.

“You better not be sleeping while we are watching this master piece of a movie.”

“Derek.”

“Unbelievable…”

 

                                               /////////////

 

3)

Trust was not something that came easy to Derek.

When others placed their trust him in, it was terrifying but the instant he placed his trust in someone else… someone other than himself, he felt gut wrenching fear.

That fear only increased as trusts after misplaced trusts were broken.

From Kate to Jennifer. From Scott to Isaac. From Erica to Boyd.

He had stupidly trusted those people and got his heart ripped out his chest by betrayal… and it’s not like he could blame them. He hardly trusted himself on a good day. How could he exact another to do it daily?

However, as all those people used and abused him, as all those people chose him and left him, there was one person who stayed. Sure he was never truly on his side, choosing to stick with his best friend through thick and thin, but still… he was there.

He was the one who stayed with him as the poisonous bullet slowly killed him.

He was there when Boyd fell limp onto the water covered ground, placing a hand on Derek’s shoulder as Cora cried over her friend and as Isaac held Jennifer.

He was there…

 

\--

 

As Derek felt the claws of the rogue Alpha tear the skin of his stomach, his mind flashed to those whiskey eyes, those thin rose pink lip stretched wide into a goofy grin. He heard Scott’s roar echo through the woods, he heard the footsteps that followed, thudding against the ground.

Maybe they realized they were mistaken, that it was an Alpha controlling Omegas.

“Derek!” Stiles called to him… or was he?

Derek, with eyes icy blue, growled at the rogue wolf and tried to swipe at the man but he jumped back, punching Derek, clawing at his cheek. Derek got in a hit or two before he was soaring through the air, his back slamming against the hard bark of the tree trunk. He felt his lung constrict and he fell to the ground within a second.

“Who knew a Hale would fall so far?” The blonde Alpha taunted him, his grin bloody. “I came here looking to form a pack with you… one of the last living member of one of the most respected packs and I find _this_.” He sneers. “Maybe I should go looking for your sister. Cora, right?”

Anger rushed through him as he forced himself stand, holding himself upright on uneasy legs and just as he was about to attack, something jumped onto him. He grunted and fell back down, dirt stung his eyes. He felt dizzy as the blood left him faster by the rough movement and another wolf growled down into his ear.

“Did I mention I wasn’t alone?” He asked in a mocking tone.

“Neither is he!” A voice shouted.

A powerful roar sunk into him and he caught sight of Scott as he pounced on the werewolf holding him down. A low, high-pitched growl followed and he saw Malia join in on the fight. He grunted as he lifting himself, wanting to fight back but pain flared up around his body from the various wounds the Alpha got in.

He swayed and hands gripped onto him.

“Real smart going after them without backup, Der.”

He growled under his breath as he felt Stiles swing his arm around his neck and then Stiles groaned as he lift Derek fully onto his feet. He turned them around, his arm tightening around the werewolf’s waist knowing both of them wanted to turn back around.

“Scott has it under control.”

Scott…

Everything faded to black just as he heard Scott roar once more.

When he came to, he was on something soft and warm and there was a gentle, wet and cold pressure on his stomach and legs. He groaned, forcing the pain that tried to take hold of him once more away and opened his eyes.

It took a beat of consideration before he recognized his own loft’s broken and cracked ceiling.

“Stupid… idiot… motherfucker attacking him… Goddamn Alpha….” A soft voice grunted beside him.

Derek eyes snapped open as another’s eyes flashed before his. Her dark brown eyes bore down at him.

Her kind voice and her gentle touch haunted his flesh.

 _“Oh god, Derek! Please don’t die_!”

“Oh I hope Scott got him good. And Malia too.”

“ _Maybe I have a feeling about you…” He felt the poison touch of lips against his, alluring and confusing through his pain._

He gasped out loud, lurching up in shock. The hands on his body vanished and a body fell back onto the ground. Derek growled and flashed his eyes at the slumped figure before he could stop himself.

“Whoa! Stow the claws and fangs, big guy!”

Pain coursed through him and Derek blindly dug his clenched fists into the mattress, pushing himself up and off the bed, wanting away from her, away from the touches and lies and her corrupted presence.

“Whoa!” Hands touched him again and Derek growled, baring his teeth. “Okay, okay. I’m getting my hands off.”

_I’m getting my hand off…_

He returned his eyes to the figure, the pain easing as the memory of her perfume dissolved until his scent took its place. Warm cinnamon with a hint of honey…

“Stiles…?”

The body straightened up and shuffled forward, coming up to kneel right before him. Derek’s felt his eyes dim and his teeth retract as he took in the porcelain skin that glowed in the streaks of moonlight breaking through his window and down upon on and the warm whiskey eyes that locked with his.

Hands came into view but they remain lifted and a good distance from him.

“Yeah. You’re okay. Nobody’s here but me and you.”

Brown eyes and sweet perfume clogged him mind and Derek reached got for Stiles. He grabbed the front of Stiles red hoodie and tugged roughly. Stiles squawked, stumbling to his feet and fell down onto Derek’s lap with the werewolf’s final tug.

The instant that warm, familiar, comforting scent encompassed him, Derek furrowed deep into his radiating heat, pressing his face against the crook of Stiles’ neck, inhaling him.

“Uh, okay…” He felt the moment’s hesitation before Stiles circled his arms around his neck and head, threading his fingers through Derek’s hair to pull him closer.

He closed his eyes, forcing Stiles’ heartbeat, Stiles’ breathing, and Stiles’ scent to chase hers away. He felt the ghost of her body press against his. He felt the phantom healing of his skin and his body mending under her touch…

_“Derek tell me you don’t believe this.”_

_“You gave it power… You gave me power…”_

_“We’re connected…”_

Her voice resounded throughout his mind, a nagging voice instant on being heard. He didn’t want to hear her, he didn’t want to remember her but lately… with his feelings for Stiles growing and strengthening with each passing second, he couldn’t help but hear her voice when Stiles’ scent spikes into the sweet, pure scent of love.

He trusted Stiles to save his life but as Stiles proved to him that no matter what he had someone there for him, he felt this growing desire to put something else he had never thought he ever would, into Stiles’ hands… to place something more precious in the hands of a guy who could walk away any minute---who should walk away.

With those thoughts came the reminders of what happened when he did exactly that. He got hurt… people died.

He leaned forward and pain shot through his entire body. A groan broke through his clenched teeth.

Stiles tensed up against him, the grip on his hair tightened as his boyfriend pulled away. Derek tried to pull him closer, not wanting that feeling of safety to vanish along with the body heat.

“Wait, just wait, I wanna try something.”

Derek clenched his jaw, his hands shaking from restraint. Stiles pulled away from him completely and he saw the blood stain on Stiles’ red hoodie, a red patch, wet and crimson against the material.

He watched as Stiles unzipped it and shrugged out of it hastily, his limps waving around madly and his thighs shaking as shifting but remained on Derek’s lap.

“Okay,” Stiles said, reaching for Derek. Warm, soft palms and callous fingertips brushed against his skin as Stiles lifted his head.

Green eyes met brown orbs.

“I’m gonna take off my shirt, alright? You stop me the moment you feel uncomfortable, just flash your eyes and I’ll stop.”

_Sweet lips locking with his. Her hands all over his body. Her skin, silky smooth and warm under his hands…_

Derek nodded.

Stiles reached down and gave one tug and soon, mole spotted, pale skin was all Derek saw. It flushed red at certain areas’, as if burning under his gaze. Derek reached out, his fingers desperate to touch Stiles’ skin, to feel his body under his palms.

“So… how about we get on the---“

Derek flashed his eyes.

“Okay.” Stiles nodded jerkily. “We’ll sit right here until you’re all healed up.” He shifted against him and cupped his face once more. Derek tensed up as Stiles leaned down. Her face flashed before his eyes and he waited for lips to touch his but they never came.

Instead, a soft pressure was placed against his forehead and his temple before arms curled around him more and pulled him in. Derek’s body burned at the touch and slowly, moles took the place of smooth, flawless skin, warm brown and occasionally whiskey eyes took the place of dark brown mysterious eyes.

He ducked his head, wrapped his arms tightly around Stiles, wanting him close, wanting his scent blended with his, wanting… everything to vanish.

And it did.

They held one another in silence, their breathing soft and slow, calm and rhythmic. Derek felt his body mend itself as his mind relaxed, his felt his frantic heart ease, slowly to a point where it almost match the other heartbeat that echoed in his ears.

“By the way…” Stiles said, his deep voice breaking the silence. “I am so not thinking about the blood against my skin right now… totally ignoring it.”

Derek sighed and scoff left his lips.

“Ah,” Stiles laughed. “There he is.” Nails scraped his sculpt. “Thought I lost you there for a second. I mean you weren’t growling and telling me ‘you’re fine’. I was kinda waiting for that for me to know that you were not fine. By the way, is it just me or am I feel your skin move against my—“

“Stiles,” Derek cut him off. “Right, got it, shutting up… for now.”

 

                                             ////////////

 

Yeah, he believed in love when it was glimpsed through the eyes of an innocent child.

He believed in the love saw being openly expressed by his mom and dad but as he grew up, as his heart was taken into the sweet young hands of a soulful girl, he thought he would never get it back but it did.

A part of it returned to him and in a desperate attend to mend it, it was mistakenly placed in the blackened hands of two demon souls. Their eyes a mirror to what he wished was there and their smiles a call to what he thought he wanted to hear.

He believed in love but he should have believed his mom when she told him that some people shouldn’t be trusted with his heart and he should have listened to her when she told him that he should be loved by someone who deserved his love.

He loved Stiles… He loved Stiles with everything in him because Stiles deserved to be love by someone who thought of him as he thought of others. Someone who chose him as he chose others, who thought of his happiness and his heart that he gave out so freely and so openly to those he knew deserved it more than him.

So yeah, he believed in love because he had someone in his life who proved to him that his heart will be treated with the utmost care and that no matter the changes they went through, it would always be taken care of.

“Hey,” Stiles called him as he entered their apartment in Virginia.

Derek looked up from his laptop, his fingers poised and midway from typing down another paragraph. He felt his smile grow as Stiles roughly tugged at his black tie, his shoulders slumped, his hair which had been gelled back this morning, standing up at ends like it was styled during his teenage years.

“Hey.” Derek grinned, his eyes following him as he tilted chin up for the kiss just as those soft lips pressed down on his.

Stiles cupped his face and let out a moan. “Hmm,” he pulled back just a bit. “I missed you so much today.”

He felt the familiar cold metal of Stiles’ wedding bang against his cheek and turned his head to press another kiss against his palm.

“Same.”

Stiles let out a groan, filled more with exhaustion than exasperation. “When did Scott say the honeymoon phase would pass?”

Derek scoffed and rolled his eyes, moving to place his laptop down beside him and turn his attention fully on his husband who was tossing his suit jacket down on the kitchen counter, losing the appropriate buttons on his shirt and rolling up his sleeves. He moved to the fridge and pulled out two beers for them.

“Yeah…” Stiles said, shaking his head. “Five years and he still looked at Malia like she is the moon.”

He took the beer and turned back around as Stiles lowered himself down onto the couch. He reached out for Derek’s hand, lacing their fingers together the moment Derek opened his beer bottle and his hand was free.

“His a werewolf, Stiles. That’s not a good metaphor.”

“I’m tired, leave me alone.” He said, moving to face his body toward Derek and rest his head against their couch, his eyelids hooded but his gaze fixed upon the werewolf, warm and soft.

“Rougher than usual?” Derek asked.

“Hmm.” He sighed, taking a gulp of his beer. “I’m just happy to be home…. should probably call dad to confirm next week’s plans… and Scott too.”

“Already did that.” Derek smiled. “Also, I called Robbie, he said our home is cleaned and organized and ready for our arrival.”

“Thank fuck. I don’t have the energy to think about that right now.”

Which was exactly why Derek knew to call everyone. Stiles had been working hard on a case that he couldn’t tell Derek about but who still knew that it involved a family. After years of being with Stiles as he went through his Quantico training, including the time they decided to take a break, and then Stiles’ time as he adjusted in the FBI.

It was during their break that Derek went back to Beacon Hills, taken a break from his job as an Architect, to do some… building. Yeah. He went all Notebook and build himself and Stiles a house right on the preserve.

A solid structure that marked their time in their home town but also a place to return to. Sure Stiles spend some days and nights with his dad but they liked the idea of having their own place in the town where it all started.

“How about…” Derek said in a suggestive tone, stroking his thumb against Stiles’ knuckles. “You get into a shower, I finish up this email and… we get into bed and put on a movie.”

Stiles grinned sleepily at him. “I love you.”

“I know.” He lifted their joined hand and pressed a soft kiss against Stiles’ knobby knuckles. “And I loved you too. Now get going.”

Stiles remained there for a few more minutes before he forcefully lifted his body off the couch, his hand slowly loosening from Derek’s until the tips of their fingers lingered and reached for the other. Derek watched with fond and loving eyes as his husband walked up the stairs with heavy thuds.

Thank god it was Friday and Stiles had the weekend off. In an ideal image, he would make Stiles breakfast in bed but he knew for them, the perfect day in was to sleep in each other’s arms, saying nothing and being everything.

It was a perfect marriage and life for both of them, with its own problems and quirks that Derek would never want to change.


End file.
